


Add a Little Vanilla

by Michelle_A_Emerlind



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Bottom Rick, But Daryl Makes Them Warm, Fluffy, M/M, Needy Rick, One Shot, Rick Has Cold Toes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle_A_Emerlind/pseuds/Michelle_A_Emerlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a lazy, rainy morning in Alexandria and Rick has an idea of what he and Daryl can do to pass the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Add a Little Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MermaidSheenaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/gifts).



> This fic is for MermaidSheenaz, who has been working tirelessly betaing my current work in progress (that's right. Michelle is writing a new Rickyl novel). She gave me this prompt: Rick and Daryl in Alexandria or the prison, having the most boring old-married-people-sex that you can write while trying not to wake Judith up, who's in the same room. Bonus if Rick's feet are cold. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Outside, the rain hits the roof in small little pings and the overcast sky bleeds in through the cracks in the curtains. It’s the kind of morning in which Rick wants to stay in bed forever with his toes curled up and his body warm against Daryl’s side. They’re in bed, but they’re not asleep. They’ve been awake for hours, Rick’s head on Daryl’s chest and Daryl’s hand lazily drawing patterns on his shoulder. The blanket is tangled pretty thoroughly and while it covers most of Daryl, it only wraps around Rick’s midsection--his stomach and the shorts he has on.

In the corner, Judith is still tuckered out, the soft rain noises lulling her in and keeping her asleep for a lot longer than she usually does. Which means that even though this is Alexandria, even though this is still the apocalypse and there are Walkers outside to kill, buildings to erect, problems to fix...Rick takes his opportunity like any good old family man would.

“Hey,” he whisper-hisses to Daryl.

“Hmm?” Daryl grunts, cracking one of his eyes open from where they have slid shut.

“Let’s have sex.” Daryl laughs and Rick pushes at him gently to get him to stop. “Don’t wake her. You’ll ruin it.”

“Rick,” Daryl whispers back with a smile, “she’s going to wake up any minute now.”

Rick rolls his eyes. “So stop stalling and get your boxers off.”

Daryl bites his lip and glances over to the corner, but Judith is still baby snoring in her crib. Rick grins and reaches down under his torso blanket to remove his shorts and toss them off to the side. Daryl grunts, but removes his own and slides across the bed to Rick. He pulls himself up over him like he knows that Rick wants it, especially since after the last time, Rick had started to complain that it was his turn.

Rick grins up at him and then starts kicking at the covers. “What are you doing?” Daryl says with a laugh.

Rick chuckles. “My toes are cold,” he says.

Daryl rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out and shakes his head at Rick, but he still smiles down at him all warm and comfortable and reaches to their legs so that he can throw the blanket over Rick’s feet, tuck them in nice and snug. He grabs one of Rick’s toes in the process, pinches it and Rick giggles and slaps at his arm. The sound is loud in the room and they both freeze, tilt toward Judith and listen. Still asleep.

Daryl smiles down at Rick. “Baby, your toes _are_ cold,” Daryl informs him.

Rick shrugs and says eloquently, “So is my dick. Come on, Daryl.” He tilts his head up, catches Daryl’s eyes and grins, “Make _love_ to me.”

Daryl leans down with a laugh and kisses him then, whispering right before he does, “You’re impossible.” Daryl’s lips on his are rough and wind-cracked and his stubble brushes against Rick’s beard that has come back within the last few months, but despite all of that it’s _soft_ , the pressure that Daryl is putting there, the underlying foundation of emotion that he puts into everything he does for Rick to make him safe, to make him comfortable, to make him loved. Rick adores him with everything in him and gives back as good as he gets, wills Daryl to feel the same thing he does--that fire of familiarity and trust that is both roaring and new and hot and blazing and at the same time so mundane, so habitual, so boring and natural.

They don’t even use tongue. But why would they need to?

Daryl pulls off and smiles and then reaches down between them, takes Rick in his hand and starts stroking. Rick bites his lip to stay silent and wiggles down in the covers even more, so that only his head is out of them. He gives Daryl a silent gasp when Daryl touches him and for the life of him, he can’t look away from those denim blue eyes, Daryl’s expression open and only for him.

Rick leans up to kiss him again and they fall together, lazily rolling their mouths to the pings of the rain on the window. Daryl reaches out of the covers and fumbles with the nightstand beside them, opens it as slowly as he can to stop the damn old thing from creaking and then reaches in with light and deft fingers to find the bottle they use and not knock around all the other junk they keep inside. He pulls out the bottle and pops it as silently as he can and Rick arches his hips so that Daryl can prepare him.

Their breathing gets heavier and Daryl’s cock presses up against Rick’s thigh, getting harder by the second. “I love you,” Rick mouths up at him and Daryl smiles down at him and leans forward, presses their foreheads together and mouths the same words back at him.

“Ready?” Daryl asks after Rick has already been ready for what feels like hours. He nods.

Daryl pulls his body up toward Rick and Rick wraps his legs around Daryl’s back, glad his toes aren’t cold anymore and won’t shock Daryl’s skin. Daryl starts fighting with the covers so they don’t slide completely off of them and Rick grumbles at him, grabs the top layer and pulls until they’re both completely under them, head-to-toe in the darkness of the blanket.

Rick smiles and reaches for Daryl, pulls his head back down at the same time he arches his pelvis so that Daryl will take the hint and _get in him_. And then Daryl does, both pushes inside Rick with his cock and his mouth, kissing him thoroughly this time, but still slow like forming oceans and how the autumn fades to winter.

They fall into their own special pattern easily--Daryl’s hips rolling and Rick’s knowing just what to do, when to pull back, when to follow, when to create pressure, when to release. Daryl is an expert at all kinds of things--things like crossbows and runs and keeping the group together. But he’ll never be an expert at anything like he is at _this_ \--making Rick feel needed, feel safe, making him finally grasp that elusive sense of _home_.

Daryl’s hips push forward and they hit Rick in just the right way and Rick groans out loudly into the room because of it. There’s a little sound from the crib and they both freeze, Daryl all the way in at the hilt. “ _Shit_ ,” Daryl says and presses his forehead to Rick’s shoulder. Rick digs his nails into Daryl’s back and waits. But then there’s a little grunt-snore and they hear Judith’s breathing patterns evening out again and they’re in the clear.

Daryl pulls his head back and shakes it, a frown on his face, but mirth in his eyes. “Shut up, you little dick,” he hisses at Rick and Rick just bites his lip to keep himself from laughing and gives Daryl apologetic eyes.

Daryl starts up again, pulling out and going back in slow. Rick rolls with him and kisses him and then slaps at Daryl’s hand to tell him he wants a little somethin’, somethin’. Daryl rolls his eyes at his neediness, but obliges, reaching down and touching Rick, stroking him to the rhythm of their bodies tossing together.

Rick throws his head back against the bed and closes his eyes, loses himself in the methodical motions of Daryl’s hand and his cock. It feels something like symmetry, something like poetry, something like Daryl needs to hurry up because Rick is close and the farther it gets into day, the more likely his little girl is going to start crying for one or both of her daddies.

“Look at me, Rick,” Daryl whispers into his ear, so quiet it’s barely even a sound. Rick flutters his eyes open and his heart grows warm at the sight of that cool blue, at how free Daryl’s eyes are, how wide and unnarrowed, here in their safe place.

Rick slides his hand into Daryl’s hair, marveling at how his fingertips glide over the skin and the little strands. Daryl smiles down at him and gets that glimmer, that _now we’re going to finish_ sparkle and he attacks. He kisses Rick with all the passion built up into his body at the same time that with a flick of his wrist, he rubs his thumb over the head of Rick’s cock while still, with a _third_ motion, slamming up into Rick in _just that right way_ that he knows makes Rick come all over his stomach. _The bastard_ , Rick thinks to himself, _God, I love him_.

Rick moans up into his mouth while he releases, spills himself all between them, and Daryl catches any sound that comes out, swallows it down into his own lungs. He pulls back and then pushes in once more, twice, and Rick squeezes his ass to encourage him and then he feels it, feels Daryl twitching in him, feels Daryl _finishing_ in him so completely in a way that says yes, _we’re done_ and also _no, we’ll never be. This is for tomorrow and tomorrow after that and even further_. Forever.

Daryl grunts as the last tremors leave his body and then collapses across Rick’s chest. Rick oomphs at the weigh and rolls his eyes, but basks in it, too. “Your toes still cold?” Daryl asks.

Rick laughs wild and free and shakes his head. “No, baby,” he says, “they’re warm now.” He runs his feet over the back of Daryl’s caves, his toes wiggling and tickling as they go.

Daryl shakes his head at him and looks up at the window with a happy sigh. “Could stay here all morning,” he whispers.

Rick smiles. “Me, too. I--”

And then it happens. Judith rolls over and gives a little cough and then...wailing. Daryl groans and pulls out of Rick, flops over on his side of the bed and rubs his eyes. “Awesome,” he says.

Rick snuggles into his covers. “You get her.”

“ _Me_?”

“Well, you made me a mess, didn’t you?”

“You bastard,” Daryl says with a laugh and throws the pillow at him, but still grabs his boxers and pulls them into the covers, situates himself and slides out of bed to go take care of Judith.

Rick watches him as he goes and thinks that nothing in the world is more perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Links:  
> [MAE's Rickyl Fics and Recs](http://maerickyl.tumblr.com/): Where you can find a list of my fanfic, fanfic recs, and snippets of works in progress.  
> [Michelle A. Emerlind](http://michelleaemerlind.tumblr.com/): My general tumblr where I put stuff? And things? And just whatever I want.


End file.
